3,000 Years

This can't be dangerous

She lost herself over four years. First it was the creeps, peering at tiny creatures in pleats - watching as she grew up, honed her skills, got stronger and better at things she'd never done before. With age came beauty, they said, great beauty came with greater age and what better way to show it than she did?

Day by day, year by year, she lost herself within the praise of her peers. Once a goddess ruled by frugality and simplicity was now a goddess blinded by adoration and pride. Gone were the days of sweetened barley strips, small animals cradled in her grip as she comforted a lone goddess teased for his inability to fight. Hate.

Now she did all the hating. All the bad things - all the things she'd once been against - had now turned into her greatest friends. Her finest, sharpest tools.

"Bloody Ellie," They would say. "The bloodiest of them all." Terror would rain down on the battlefields, eyes wide with terror as the enemy set their sights on her, lightning striking down from the stormy heavens above.

Glorious, she would be. Bright silver hair of starlight, glowing skin of sun. Heavy armour weighed her down, glimmering in all shades of metallic shine and gemstone gleam. With her sword and her skill, she was a formidable enemy. One of the legends that had been passed along the battlefields, whispered between shivering troops who cowered behind their well-dug lines and fortresses.

Bloody Ellie. Daughter of a God. The one who would take over this world and rule it in her mother's stead once the demons were gone.

How far she had fallen. Lost herself to hopes and dreams of others who did not care for her. Battle after battle, bloodstain after bloodstain, she would tread further and further away from the girl she used to be.

Bloody Ellie. Once Elizabeth. Only, she couldn't see her anymore.

Young, bright goddess, so unaware of all the creeps. Smiling and laughing as she wore her little pleats. Sweet words and wishful smiles, shared between her and a brother who was teased for quite a while. Now where is she? Sweaty palms, nails of yellow, the soft rogue of cheek. All these things she'd thought she'd never be.

Yet here she is, battling for her people, Bloody Ellie - not Elizabeth - and swiftly being lost, piece by piece.

.....

When she finally realised that they had all left the table because of her smell it was too late. Everyone fled. Anyone fled. Too skeptical of her intentions, too envious of her skill, the other goddesses began to isolate her once more.

No longer did they send her kind smiles. No longer did they credit her as the clan's greatest weapon, a true rival to the Ten Commandments and the Dark Demon Prince himself. Instead she was a threat - an unpredictable ruler. No-one knew what would happen once this war was over, once Elizabeth received her title as queen, and so they chose to dance around her. Act as if she didn't exist.

But then she might as well not exist. Built around their hopes and dreams, their pride and aspirations, Elizabeth no longer knew how to function without everyone else around. Over all those years, years at war, she had lost herself. Deeply. So much so, she didn't even know how to find herself again.

So what could she do next? What could she do to gain their attention, their trust, their adoration once more?

Biting her lip, the goddess peers around the battlegrounds, strewn about with groaning bodies and screeching attacks. Blood, so much blood - bloodshed she had caused with her striking arrival. Why? She does not know. This war she fights, this battle she is in, is fought all for them. Always for them. Only for them. Never herself. Why was a reason lost long ago.